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Talemir’s expression softened. ‘It’s time to let go.’

Wilder’s whole body sagged. ‘But I —’

‘No.’ Talemir shook his head. ‘No buts. What happened at Islaton was never your fault. We were never your responsibility. Our own choices led to the events of that day, not yours.’

Malik made a sound of agreement.

‘We won’t be your excuse any longer,’ Talemir said firmly.

Wilder baulked. ‘Excuse?’

‘To not live your life fully, to hold back —’

‘What do you know about it?’ Wilder asked quietly. ‘I haven’t seen you in over eight years. You don’t know anything about my life.’

‘Is that what you think?’ Talemir scoffed. ‘You think that I haven’t checked in over the years?’

Wilder stared at him, the stall suddenly seeming far too small with Biscuit, Malik and Talemir all crowding the space around him.

‘It’s time to let that day go,’ Talemir said again.

‘You could have died. Both of you.’

‘Such is life.’ Talemir exchanged a knowing look with Malik. ‘And yet here we stand.’

For a second, Wilder felt like a young Guardian again, standing in the presence of far greater men than he. He and Torj had followed them around like puppies, in awe of how the Shieldbreaker and Prince of Hearts moved through the world. Despite everything that had happened, they stood just as tall now, just as unyielding.

‘What do you say, Apprentice? Will you put all this shit behind you?’ Talemir prompted, hazel eyes gleaming with mischief.

‘I’m not your fucking apprentice,’ Wilder muttered, unable to stop the tug of a smile.

‘Well?’

Wilder grunted. ‘I’ll try.’

‘Good enough, for now.’ Tal started towards the door. He paused on the threshold of the stables, surveying the lush grounds before them and letting out a small sigh with a glance at Wilder. ‘Every now and then, just for a moment, I forget the horrors outside these walls. The war brewing so close by. For a fraction of a second, I can breathe in the peace —’

Something collided with Talemir’s torso, sending him staggering sideways.

Wilder jumped back, his dagger half-drawn, before he saw the source of the mayhem.

‘Boo!’ A little boy had flung himself onto Talemir. A pair of tiny wings flapped at his back and a slouchy knitted cap fell about his eyes as he laughed with glee.

‘You…’ Talemir’s eyes crinkled in amusement as he peeled the child from his torso and held him at arm’s length, the boy’s legs kicking joyfully in the air. ‘Are not meant to be here.’

The child only grinned wider.

Wilder could only stare at the wriggling bundle of mischief in Talemir’s arms. With the same nose, the same chin and even the same wave in his dark golden-brown hair, the boy was almost a mirror image of the Shadow Prince, except for the ice-blue shade of his bright eyes.

A garbled noise escaped Talemir as a small foot hit a soft spot, and he snatched the child around the waist and hung him upside down, the boy’s tiny wings flapping. ‘What have I told you about doing that?’ Talemir said, though there was no missing the note of amusement in his tone. ‘Your mother —’

‘Thought it was high time his father experienced some of the insanity this morning,’ came a voice from nearby.

Wilder turned to see a beautiful woman watching them from the stable fence line, her arms folded over her chest, a sword and cutlass hanging at her hips. She stood as elegantly as a dancer, burnt-umber hair threaded with streaks of red falling loosely to her mid-back. Perched on her shoulder was a familiar hawk.

‘Drue?’ Wilder gaped at her. Terrence flapped his wings and launched from the ranger’s shoulder.

‘I haven’t aged a day, Hawthorne,’ she quipped. ‘So quit your gawking and give me a hug.’